Mr. Darcy, Vampyre

  When they had inspected the lodge from top to bottom Darcy, having seen what he wanted to see, suggested they return to the castle. They were just about to leave the lodge when they heard a commotion outside. Elizabeth’s first thought was that it was bandits, but the shouts quickly resolved themselves into friendly halloos and the sound of galloping hooves came to a halt just outside the drawing room window. Looking out, she saw some of the Count’s guests leaping from their saddles and, breathless and excited, heading towards the house.

  They were dressed in simple woollen clothes, suitable for hard riding through the countryside, the women wearing serviceable riding habits and the men wearing rough coats and breeches with well-worn boots. They disappeared from view and then there was the sound of the front door being flung open and Gustav’s voice called, ‘The Count, he told us you were visiting the hunting lodge and so we thought you might like some company. We have brought a picnic.’

  The room was suddenly full of people, their faces flushed with exercise, all laughing and talking at once.

  ‘What a morning we have had of it!’ said Gustav. ‘The best sort in many a long day. There is nothing to beat a bright autumn morning when the air is crisp and the blood is flowing with the thrill of the chase. We must persuade you to hunt with us tomorrow, Darcy, and Elizabeth, too.’

  ‘Elizabeth does not hunt,’ said Darcy sharply.

  ‘Then you must teach her. There is nothing like hunting for sharpening the senses and bringing them to life. Every sight, scent, and sound is magnified. To live without hunting is to be only half alive. Well, Elizabeth, what is it to be? Will you hunt with us tomorrow?’ asked Isabella.

  ‘No, I thank you, not I,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘A pity. But perhaps we may persuade you yet,’ said Louis.

  Carlotta, meanwhile, had unpacked the hamper, spreading the contents out on a rug in the window seat. There was cold chicken and ham, breads and cheeses, game birds and venison, and to go with the food, there were bottles of wine.

  ‘We have you to thank for this, Elizabeth,’ said Gustav as the plates were passed round. ‘Polidori has not invited us to the castle for years. I had forgotten how much fun it was to hunt hereabouts.’

  ‘You have not forgotten our agreement, I hope, and been killing things you shouldn’t,’ said Darcy.

  ‘Never fear, we have respected the Count’s property and your wishes. We hunt to live, not to make enemies of our neighbours.’

  ‘You must come here more often,’ said Frederique, lifting a leg of chicken to his mouth.

  ‘Yes, indeed, and bring your friends and family with you. Do you have any sisters as beautiful as yourself?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘No,’ said Darcy at the same time.

  ‘I have four sisters,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘But none of them as beautiful as yourself,’ said Darcy.

  ‘Naturally. How is it possible to match perfection?’ asked Louis with roguish gallantry. ‘But if they are not all as beautiful, they are at least numerous. Four sisters is a family indeed.’

  ‘Two of them are married,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘Which means that two of them are not. I will have to visit England again with all rapidity.’

  ‘And you, do you have brothers and sisters?’ she asked him.

  ‘Me, I have two brothers, but they are neither of them as handsome as me!’ he said outrageously.

  Frederique laughed.

  ‘His brothers are the most handsome men you have ever seen. They quite put him—how do you say it?—in the shade!’

  ‘Are they married?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘Mais oui. Both of them have been married for many years.’

  ‘Do you have any nephews and nieces?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘More than I can count. Hundreds of them!’ he said.

  Elizabeth laughed. Sometimes it seemed as though her Aunt Gardiner had hundreds of children, when they were all running around noisily on a summer’s afternoon!

  ‘Do any of you have sisters?’ Elizabeth asked, as they gathered on the rug and began to eat.

  ‘I have two,’ said Clothilde, between mouthfuls of game pie, ‘both older than me. I am the baby of the family.’

  ‘Do they live nearby?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘No, my family is scattered,’ she said. ‘Some of them live in France, some in Austria, and some even further away.’

  ‘So that is why you thought that Charlotte had settled an easy distance from her family,’ said Elizabeth to Darcy. ‘And when compared with settling in another country, then yes, she has.’

  ‘Everything, it is relative,’ said Frederique as he helped himself to a glass of wine, and then helped Elizabeth to one as well.

  ‘But what are you doing here?’ said Isabella to Darcy. ‘I hope you are thinking of living amongst us again?’

  ‘No,’ said Darcy. ‘The Count thinks he might have found a tenant for me.’

  ‘Vraiment? Who?’

  They were all eager to know, and when Darcy mentioned the name they each had their own opinion to give.

  ‘He will not like it. He thinks he wants to live in the country, but he would never be happy away from town,’ said Louis.

  ‘He will come here for a few months and then he will go,’ agreed Carlotta.

  ‘Is he married?’ asked Elizabeth. ‘When an unmarried gentleman moved into Meryton it was the talk of the neighbourhood, and he was seen as the property of one or other of the Hertfordshire daughters! I am sorry if I offend you, but it was so!’

  Isabella sat up straight and looked at Louis with interest.

  ‘Well? Is he handsome?’ she asked.

  ‘He is not handsome enough for you!’ said Louis with a laugh.

  ‘And how do you know what is handsome enough for me?’ she asked. ‘I might like him very well.’

  ‘You might, I suppose. Very well, he is unmarried.’

  ‘Louis!’ said Frederique with a groan. ‘You are a traitor! Why not tell them that yes, he is married, and then he can know some peace when he arrives.’

  ‘I think he would like very much the company of such beautiful young women; it will amuse him to have them all paying a call on him as soon as he arrives.’

  ‘But what is this you say?’ asked Isabella. ‘When we pay a call? It is our fathers who will call. Carlotta’s father cannot call, it is true, but my Papa shall go for both of us.’

  They continued to laugh and banter and tease each other throughout the meal, the women asking more questions about the prospective tenant and the men laughing at them whilst serving Elizabeth with all the choicest delicacies from the hamper. They were attentive and gallant, and Elizabeth responded in a lively fashion.

  When they had finished eating, the ladies packed the remains of the picnic away in the hampers and the gentlemen carried them outside and put them on the roof of the carriage. The rug was folded, leaving a clean space where it had swept away the dust, and the windows were closed. The door was locked and then they went outside, those with horses mounting them in a flurry of skirts and boots, all except Carlotta who professed herself tired. Darcy offered her his place and handed her, together with Elizabeth, into the carriage.

  The road back was full of pleasantries, and Elizabeth and Carlotta were not forgotten. Louis and Frederique rode beside the carriage, laughing and talking with them through the open window.

  The castle at last loomed into sight. Against the backdrop of the late afternoon sunlight it looked less gloomy than heretofore, but once across the drawbridge, Elizabeth felt some of her apprehension return. The mercenaries were still patrolling the courtyard with their leashed hounds, and even the sight of Frederique and Gustav dismounting and talking to them did not make the sight any less threatening. Those with horses took them round to the stables, eager to make sure that the grooms rubbed them down thoroughly, and Elizabeth went back into the castle. She went upstairs to repair the damage to her hair, wrought by the elements, a
nd to remove her outdoor apparel.

  When she had gone halfway up the imposing stone staircase, Elizabeth heard Darcy calling her. She stopped and turned round. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her.

  ‘Elizabeth!’ he said again, as he began to climb the stairs towards her place on the half landing.

  Illuminated by the light from the large window she made a lovely sight. Her cheeks were aglow, her eyes sparkled, and she radiated good humour and health.

  ‘I am glad you enjoyed the company of my uncle’s guests, but it would be well not to encourage them too far,’ he said in some agitation.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said in surprise.

  ‘You were enjoying their attentions,’ he said with a sudden spurt of jealousy.

  She was taken aback by the injustice of his remark and flashed back, ‘And why should I not? I never get yours.’

  He looked startled.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

  ‘You know full well what I mean. We have been married for weeks and yet I am still not your wife.’

  ‘Elizabeth—’ he said, and then stopped, as if at a loss.

  ‘Why do you never come to me?’ she asked him, hurt.

  ‘I—’ He shook his head. ‘I should never have brought you here,’ he said.

  ‘Then why did you?’ she asked.

  ‘I didn’t know how it would be. I thought it would be different.’

  ‘Different? How?’

  ‘Not so difficult—or yes, difficult, but difficult in different ways.’

  ‘I don’t see what is so difficult,’ she said, looking at him beseechingly and reaching out a hand to touch him.

  ‘No, I know you don’t,’ he said, but he did not take her hand.

  ‘Then explain it to me. Talk to me, Darcy,’ she begged him, taking his hands and looking into his eyes. ‘Tell me what is wrong. I will not leave this spot until you talk to me, though sunset is already on its way. I will stand here until dark if necessary.’

  He lifted his eyes but he did not look at her, he looked beyond her, over her shoulder, to the reddening sky. Then his whole attitude changed.

  ‘That’s no sunset,’ he said.

  She was startled and, looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was right. The sky was not flamed with crimson, it was stained with a fire’s glow.

  A bell on the stables started to ring out and there was a clamour from the courtyard outside. Through the window she saw the mercenaries mount with all speed as the grating of the drawbridge’s chains rent the air. The vast bridge began to lower and the mercenaries streamed across it, filling the air with the flash of their bright swords.

  ‘There is no time to lose,’ said Darcy, seizing Elizabeth by the hand and pulling her down the stairs, just as the Count appeared at their foot.

  ‘Quickly,’ the Count said, ‘you must go at once. The mob, it is on the move.’

  Elizabeth was at once alarmed, remembering everything she had heard about the revolution in France, when the mobs had stormed the houses of the nobility and wreaked havoc, burning and murdering as they went.

  ‘We can’t leave the castle,’ she said. ‘The walls are thick. We will be safe here.’

  ‘We can and we must leave,’ said Darcy.

  The Count said something under his breath and Elizabeth thought he said, Get her away from here. It is her they will not stand for, before realising that she must be mistaken, because those words didn’t make sense. Then, in a louder voice, he said, ‘Do not stop for your things. Me, I will have them sent on.’

  ‘We can’t leave at night,’ said Elizabeth. ‘The horses—’

  ‘We cannot ride our own horses, there is no time to have them readied,’ said Darcy.

  ‘You will find everything needful at the usual place,’ said the Count to Darcy. ‘Go quickly, my friend, and the wind, may he be at your back.’

  Darcy nodded, then saying, ‘Send our things on,’ he turned to Elizabeth and said, ‘We must go.’

  Caught up in the sense of urgency, she ran down the flight of stairs with Darcy beside her, but when she headed for the door he caught her hand and, pulling her along with him, took her to another staircase leading down into the bowels of the castle. The steps were smooth and slippery, and the cold bit into Elizabeth’s feet through the soles of her shoes. The light faded as the windows receded and they were running in near darkness, until at last Darcy pulled her through a studded door. There he took a torch from a sconce on the wall and fumbled on a shelf, striking a light with a tinder box. The torch caught fire and a light shone out, a dreadful echo of the torches of the mob.

  They were in a storeroom with sacks of flour stacked against the walls. It was hewn out of the rock on which the castle stood, and the ceiling was so low that Darcy had to stoop and Elizabeth was in danger of hitting her head.

  Darcy pulled aside the heavy sacks of floor and then, taking the torch in one hand and Elizabeth’s hand in the other, he led her on through the door that had been revealed. Elizabeth found herself in a dark, dank tunnel with water running down the walls, and she shuddered with cold and fear. The floor was uneven, and twice she stumbled, but she quickly righted herself, wondering where they were going. She guessed they were passing beneath the castle walls and the thought of so much weight above oppressed her so that she hurried her pace. At last they came to another thick door which was barred with a stout oak log. Darcy again handed her the torch and then heaved the bar out of its housings and opened the door. Beyond was a tangled thicket of thorns and ivy, disguising the opening, and beyond that lay the forest.

  A wolf howled and Elizabeth’s pulse jumped at the thought of the dangers ahead and the dangers behind.

  Darcy extinguished the torch and threw it aside. Then he led her cautiously ahead, pushing the creepers out of the way with his hands and making a passage for her through the thick and thorny tangle. Even so, she scratched her face and caught her cloak on a briar before she was able to stand upright in a dense part of the forest.

  Through a gap in the canopy above there came the faint and sickly light of a new moon rising in the sky, floating like a ghost in the stark and terrible blackness. Beneath it was an angry red glow, moving towards the castle. But the castle was now some way behind them and Elizabeth stopped to catch her breath.

  ‘No, we can’t stop yet,’ Darcy said. ‘We are still not safe.’

  There were far-off shouts and the dim commotion of steel on steel, but closer to hand all was quiet.

  Darcy turned and looked ahead. Through the thick and gnarly tree trunks a cottage could be glimpsed, and it was to this building that Darcy headed, Elizabeth at his side. They moved quickly and quietly, their breath misting in the air and their lungs gasping with the cold.

  They had almost gained the cottage when a shadow detached itself from the surrounding blackness and Elizabeth froze. She could not at first see what it was, it seemed too large for a wolf or a man, but then it split and separated and she could see that it was made up of half a dozen men or more, each holding a club.

  ‘They were waiting for us,’ said Darcy under his breath. ‘We were betrayed.’

  He began to back away from the men, pushing Elizabeth behind him, protecting her with his body. And then she heard a twig crack behind her and she froze. Her arm was seized and she was pulled backwards, amidst a flurry of blows and cries. And then from out of nowhere, a wind arose, circling with force and speed, and she felt a roaring in her ears. She could see nothing and hear nothing, save a confused jumble of sounds and images, and then suddenly everything went quiet. The wind dropped, the cries died, and she was standing alone in the forest. There were no hands holding on to her, no one anywhere. The forest was empty.

  ‘Darcy!’ she called, softly to begin with in case there were any enemies nearby. But then, needing to hear a friendly voice whatever the cost, she called more loudly, ‘Darcy!’

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘I’m here.’
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  Somehow he was right beside her, though she had not seen him or heard him a moment before.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  ‘Some of the mob knew what we would do and tried to cut us off,’ he said.

  ‘I know, but after that. The wind, the cries, what happened to the men?’

  ‘Gone,’ he said.

  He turned slightly and the moonlight fell on one side of his face. His hair was dishevelled and his clothes were awry, and she saw to her horror that he had blood on his mouth.

  ‘You’re hurt,’ she said, removing her glove and lifting her hand to see to his wound.

  He caught it, stopping her, and all of a sudden they were not in the forest, they were nowhere, in some strange realm where only they two existed, and where every inch of her needed him. She looked into his eyes and something shot between them, connecting them, joining them, making them one. She felt the hunger in him, she saw the longing in his eyes and her heart stopped beating. Then he wrenched himself away.

  ‘What is it?’ she begged him. ‘What’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me?’

  ‘I should never have let her do this to me,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘but then, if I hadn’t, I would never have met you.’

  There was a low murmur like the sea coming towards them and the red glow was getting closer.

  ‘We must go,’ he said.

  He took her hand again and together they ran through the forest, snaking through the tree trunks and jumping over gnarled roots until they came to the cottage door.

  Darcy knocked swiftly and quietly in a distinctive tattoo. The door was opened at once by a woman carrying a candle, which gave out only the smallest light. She said something to Darcy in a foreign tongue and he thanked her, then took Elizabeth through the house and out of the door at the other side. A barn lay ahead, and a man was leading a couple of horses, both saddled and ready to go.

  Elizabeth looked at her horse with some apprehension. It was no gentle mount, but a large and restive looking creature, and it had a man’s saddle on its back. There was no help for it, she had to mount. Darcy lifted her into the saddle, then mounted his own animal, and they set off. She could barely hold the horse, but she hoped it would become less restive when it had run off some of its energy.